When Fate Laughs
by Zarek Magnus Malfoy
Summary: A Draco-centric fic. Draco comes into his Veela inheritance, everyone returns to Hogwarts, and things seem to be going fairly well. For most, it is. Not far into the school term, an incident occurs, leaving Draco with more than he can handle. More inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** SLASH! Triad (or maybe just sharing. Not quite sure yet.), swearing, possibly violence/gore in the future, maybe [semi-]graphic -cough- physical affection.

**Disclaimer: **Credit where credit's due. Which is to say, I own nothing but the plot.

**Date: **Jan 18, 2011

**A/N -**

Woo-hoo! A fic of my own! Finally! Not counting _Consequences_, which I am currently completely disregarding due to its utter failure. ∏_∏ SO! I am super excited because I think I managed to come up with a completely original idea. At least, I've not seen anything like it so far. What is it? Not what is seems so far. You'll just have to read to find out. ;D Also, REVIEW! When you don't, I feel like an awful, awful writer. D: Seriously, even flames are welcome. Some of the time they even make me giggle. ALSO! This is not beta'd. Beta and/or Brit-picker (I absolutely do not remember where I read that term so do not ask) would be more or less welcomed. PM me if you're interested or know of somebody who qualifies and might be interested.

To keep in mind: Set after 5th year, but Sirius is still alive, because, well, I like him. Let's just say Bellatrix is the one that fell through the Veil, because, face it, we pretty much all wish that is what happened. Horcruces (Latin class FTW) play no part in this, unless I decide it is sadly lacking in plot.

* * *

Draco Malfoy grew up with Blaise Zabini, somehow managing to become true friends in a world of Pureblood politics and façades. Considering, it was little surprise when, on his sixteenth birthday, he came to see Blaise in a new light. In fact, it was nigh expected. Draco's inner Veela had chosen him for his mate. Blaise, in fact, had a touch of Veela blood running through his veins. Though several generations diluted — and rather negligible —, it still could be seen if one knew what to look for. A body a bit more svelte then is natural, eyes too bright for their deep shade of brown, hands slightly too elegant for a male, and most of all his easy charm. In addition to all this, it left him with an almost unnoticeable predilection towards the Malfoy scion himself. Upon discussion, however, the young men in question decided take the romantic and sexual relationship slowly. While they had strong feelings for each other, they were purely platonic and the Veela did not need satisfaction of the bond until the wizard or witch's coming of age, seventeen years.

* * *

Draco was raised with the knowledge he was part Veela, inherited from both his parents, though mostly dormant in the pair. — How, exactly, the gene became active in Draco was a mystery, though later on Blaise and Narcissa would be adamant that Fate herself had intervened even as Draco and Lucius reluctantly agreed. None of them, however, could explain why the Lady would do so. — Thus, he highly anticipated his sixteenth birthday, knowing that one's mate is a major part of a Veela's life. Upon his birthday and subsequent discovery of his mate, he was surprised by the fact that he felt very much the same as before. With all the fuss people made about coming into a Veela inheritance, he expected to feel very different. He looked very much the same as well, except he seemed to exude an aura of grace and beauty that he had scarcely lacked before. Upon research, however, he discovered that that same aura would have been much stronger, along with a pheromone of sorts attracting others to him, until he found his mate. The qualities tapering off were a sort of defence to keep others from pursuing the Veela in question — as much as they would have before — and possibly draw the Veela from his or her mate; an unprecedented phenomenon and an unlikely one at best.

* * *

With those explanations given and out of the way, we may begin with our tale.

* * *

Harry lay on his thin mattress in his room at the Dursleys', head propped on his folded arms, staring at the ceiling, waiting for a response to the letter he sent to Remus. While Harry considered Sirius a father figure, in reality he was much more a hyperactive older brother. Remus, on the other hand, was also a father figure, but one with adult levels of maturity. Because of this, Harry had taken to talking, writing in this case, to Remus when he needed advice. And advice was what he needed most right now. Harry shut his eyes tightly shut at the very thought of the contents of the letter he sent. He had been having… _questionable_ dreams recently. The first, however, was the strangest, though also the most normal at the same time. It left him with both a sense of peace and foreboding.

* * *

He was in a place of… nothingness. He was insubstantial, and that bothered him more than he felt it should upon waking. Then a figure started walking towards him, her delicate steps somehow causing ripples in the void and with each one she appeared differently. A different age, race, build, hair, clothing, even gender — though always effeminate —, the only constant was her being barefoot. She stopped only a few feet away from him, her form now solid. Her frame was that of a preteen girl — though somehow appearing to be ageless —, clothed in a nearly translucent dress reminiscent of ancient Grecian or Roman style that somehow managed to retain her modesty, hair of indeterminate colour draped over one shoulder tied at the collarbone and falling to her knee, and eyes and skin also of indeterminate colour. Her face was both unremarkable and indescribable, and she stood at the same height as Harry. When she spoke, her voice rang clear and seemed to echo around the non-space they were occupying and also through Harry's own mind.

"Dear one, we finally meet." At this, Harry became even more baffled.

"Wha— Wait, dear? Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?" At this she laughed, a bright sound that somehow brought to mind the impenetrable darkness of an underground cavern.

"No, I expect not." Her eyes and voice danced with amusement. "Though I would think you have thought quite a bit about me, especially in recent times." Harry gave up trying to figure out what was going on for himself.

"I don't even know who you are. Why would you think I think or thought about you at all?"

"Because, dear one, I am largely responsible for your fortunes and misfortunes. Yours and everyone else's."

"I don't follow." Harry was surprised that he remained calm throughout this. "Who _are_ you?" Rather suddenly, she became solemn.

"I am known by many names."

"Sure, whatever, but _who. Are. You?_"

"I, dear one, am Fate." Her tone changed to one of sad affection. "I am the one that controls all else."

"And by 'all else' you mean…?" Harry wasn't buying that she sat around controlling every aspect of every moment of all time.

"No, I do not." She answered his thoughts as opposed to his voice. "Yes, I can hear your thoughts," She paused, "Perhaps 'hear' is not the right word. I, put simply, know your every thought. Every thought you ever had and every thought you might have." Harry began to ask what she meant, but before he could, she waved her hand as if to forestall the inquiry.

"Dear one, these are questions better left unasked. If you choose to ask despite this, I shall not answer.

"No, I am not the only higher power, but without me they would not exist. I am, in a vague sense, their mother. All beings have free will. This is all the explanation I shall give, as this is not why I called you here. Dear one, you have been prophesied to banish an evil, as you well know. One of my daughters is the one who gave you this path, and I cannot divert you from it without taking the only chance against this evil. She is Destiny, and I cannot outright change her plans. I have done all I can to simplify this task so you may lead as normal a life as possible.

"I have come to realise that I left her to her own devices for too long in this matter, and that I cannot continue as I have." She drew closer to him, her appearance remaining the same this time. She took Harry's face into her hands. He felt nothing from it, however. Her gaze grew sharp and hard, though not unkind.

"What I bestow upon you now, dear one, may be a gift, a curse, or possibly even both." With that, Fate stood on her toes to kiss his forehead. He felt a warmth spreading through his veins, quickly becoming a burning, and just as quickly a severe cold, before cycling again numerous times. She stared him straight in the eyes the entire time, and by the end Harry didn't know how long he stood there bearing this excruciating pain, bedamnedly calm all the while. When the pain dispersed, her eyes softened and she traced a finger down his face, a sad, almost tragic, smile across her features. "I am truly sorry for all that has befallen you, dear one. I ask of you this one thing, though I cannot guarantee it to be the last; use it well, dear one." She released him and backed up a few paces.

"This is likely the last time we shall meet in this lifetime, though I promise to watch over you and help where I can." She lifted one hand, palm out, in his direction. He felt a gentle, almost caressing, warmth pool across his upper back before dispersing with the sensation of a cool breeze blowing fleetingly across his skin. "I leave you with my mark. Only those whose paths are most intertwined with yours shall see it, so do not fret over hiding it if you became so inclined." With that, she again became a constantly shifting figure. Harry's vision began to blur and fade.

* * *

**A/N: **Whoa! I actually managed to get out a chapter of this fic! The idea had been floating around for months now, but I was too cowardly to write it. -.-; I decided, however, that I really like my portrayal of Fate! :D One last thing (two, actually), I do not have a plan for a regular posting schedule (sorry!) and I might change the title. So… Review, review, review! Whatever you have to say, I want to hear it.

~Z


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimers and warnings may be found in the first chapter.**

**A/N - **

This chapter gave me a lot of trouble. Thrice-damned thing. The italicizedness in the page breaks is a dream sequence. I know it seems random and bizarre now, but it makes a lot of sense if you know the plot. Which I'm still not telling. ;P I might be persuaded to put it in the next chapter if I get enough reviews. ALSO! I forgot to say this last chapter, but use my portrayal of Fate without my permission and I will sic Maros on you. (See Roc's _Ascension_) And/or Troy. (See Roc's _Depravia_) (both used with permission)

* * *

At a tapping at the window, Harry came back to himself with a start. He stood and crossed the room to open the window.

"Hey, girl." Hedwig threw him a glare at the softly spoken words. He assumed that she had been trying to get his attention for a while. He dutifully removed the roll of parchment, presumably Remus's reply to his letter, and let Hedwig pointedly ignore him and return to the perch in her cage. Harry hesitated before opening the letter; _Do I really want to know what he thinks?_ After some indecision, he left the letter unopened on the bedside table. He returned to his previous position on the bed, and closed his eyes, trying to lose himself in sleep due to the late hour.

* * *

_Colours. That was the only thing that pervaded his senses this time. Every dream was different. Flashes of chocolate; silver; a red reminiscent of dried blood; bone white; a bright, blinding green; amber; chestnut; blood, so much blood, and screaming, concerned yelling and harsh breathing; black silence._

_

* * *

_Harry bolted upright out of his slumber. He dropped his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. That dream was different than the others. Usually they only appealed to one sense, to have colours and sounds in the same dream hadn't happened before and that worried him more than he cold reason. With that thought playing across his mind, he snatched up Remus's letter.

'_Harry,_

'_I've never heard of a curse scar disappearing like that. Then again, you seem to be the exception to every rule,' _– At this, Harry snorted – '_so I cannot claim to be as surprised as I would otherwise be. As for the dreams, they sound like visions, which you were having before. _

'_As to your concerns about your sexuality, Sirius and I were in a relationship before the whole Azkaban debacle.' _– Harry very nearly fell off the bed upon reading that. – _'We are currently working to reestablish that relationship. It is really not an uncommon thing in the Wizarding World. _

'_I am sorry I could not be of more help in the former matter. I have done as you requested and not told anyone of your letter. I would suggest you ask another, however, if you want more information. I know you won't like what I'm about to say; but I suggest you write to Severus.' _– At this, Harry did fall off the bed. Clambering back to his feet, he thanked Fate that the Dursleys were not home. – _'I know the two of you do not get along,' _– Huge understatement. – _'But he is very knowledgeable in such areas. _

_Please at least consider it, cub._

_-Remus_

Harry knew Remus meant well, but did he really believe Harry would write to _Snape_ of all people? All in all, besides the statement about Remus and Sirius in a relationship, the letter was rather unhelpful. He had already figured the dreams were visions, and knew that he was the exception to nearly every fucking rule. He sighed and flopped back down on his bed. It was his birthday in a few days, then he could get out of the Dursleys' and talk to Remus face-to-face. And maybe – _maybe _– Snape, if it came to that. Until then, he would while away the time with the summer homework he was assigned.

* * *

Three days later, the day of his birthday, Harry stood in the entryway of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Leaving his trunk where it was, he tried to sneak up the stairs to the library to try and make some sense of what was happening to him before being accosted by clingy women. With two loud cracks of Apparation, his plans were foiled by the Terrible Twosome.

"Harry! Good to see you, mate!" One of the twins, Harry didn't know who, slung an arm over his shoulders.

"Indeed it is, Forge!" The other slung an arm across his shoulders from his other side.

"Now Harry, surely you didn't think—"

"—That you could get away—"

"With sneaking in like that, did you?" As they forcibly lead him back down the stairs, Harry heard voices from the kitchen. The one on his left, Gred, removed his arm to grandly swing the door open.

"Hello all! Look who we found—"

"—Sneaking upstairs—"

"—Like a common criminal." At this Forge shook his head.

"Honestly, Harry. You are so—"

"—Much better than that."

"You are a _classy_ criminal. Leave the—"

"—Common criminal activities—"

"—To Mundungus." They finished together. Harry, of course, didn't hear much after the word 'sneaking' due to being assaulted by aforementioned clingy women. He managed to cough out "Air," thus triggering release by Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and—"Tonks?"

"Wotcher, Harry!" She called cheerfully. Harry just looked at her for a moment before deciding that it wasn't worth looking into too deeply.

"Hi, guys." They blinked at him. "What?" Mrs. Weasley huffed and gave him a stern look, hands on her hips.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Um… Yeah." For a moment everyone just looked at him, clearly expecting him to say _something_.

"Harry!" With that, Harry found himself swept into another tight hug, the difference being this one was from a male and he could still _breathe_.

"Hi, Sirius!" Harry said with a laugh, then turned to the figure standing next to him. "Remus."

"Hello, Harry." He couldn't help but noticed that Remus was eyeing him with no small amount of concern. Looking around, Harry noticed that everyone else's face held excitement and/or curiosity. "How are you?" A loaded question. Harry turned to face Remus again.

"As well as can be expected." He answered with a shrug. Remus seemed to be searching his face for something. After a moment, he replied.

"That's good." Harry turned to the rest of the room, who was seemingly sizing up what just happened.

"Oh Harry dear, you must be starved! Heaven knows you're skinny enough! And here we are making small talk." Molly clucked her tongue much like the mother hen she so resembled, bustling over to the cupboards to prepare something for Harry to eat. With that, the room seemed to come back to life. Sirius ushered Harry to the kitchen table where most everyone was already sitting. Sirius sat on one side of him, Remus on the other, effectively closing him off from everyone else. Not that that deterred anyone. Harry was still bombarded by questions, all of which Harry studiously ignored. After a few minutes they seemed to get the hint, and returned to the conversations they were having before his twin-induced grand entrance. When Mrs. Weasley placed a sandwich on the table in front of him, he ate it silently and with his head down, hair covering his forehead. Once finished, he stood up.

"I have to take care of something." He gave a pointed look to the Weasley offspring, "Alone." He immediately made his way to the library, hoping that he would be left in peace. No such luck. Almost immediately after he left the kitchen, Harry heard footsteps following. He turned around, ready to berate whomever decided to disregard his rather explicit request, when he noticed a certain Potions Master sneering at him in all his voluminous-robed glory. The click his jaw made when he shut it was audible.

"You needn't look so surprised, Potter." _I was wondering when the snark would join us._

"Why is that?" Snape shot him a look. "Sir." Harry ground out.

"There is obviously something going through that typically empty head of yours, and the wolf… _requested _I do something about it." Upon hearing this, Harry silently cursed Remus. Then he inwardly sighed. Even if they hated each other, the greasy git could be of help.

"If you're really offering… Come on then." Harry turned on his heel and continued on his way, not giving Snape a chance to answer. He was sure that if he had been wearing robes, they would have billowed in a way rather reminiscent of Snape's. He couldn't keep a smirk from his face as he heard the footsteps resume.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - **

After this, I cannot believe that I said chapter two was a bitch. I think that I had more trouble writing this than anything else in my entire writing career, which says a lot. I absolutely cannot find the right music for this story. When I write, I need certain music which varies from story to story, chapter to chapter, and character to character; I couldn't, and for the most still can't, find the music for this.

On a completely unrelated note, I beat all the Kanto gyms _and_ caught all the legendary birds in SoulSilver in under twelve hours. Go me! XD I am a complete dork, and I totally love it. I am also successfully breeding an army of Eevee. Upon telling my friends (the ones that also play Pokémon) they all go o.O; It makes me laugh.

ANYWAY! Review, review, review. I need to know what my fans (I can finally say that! ^.^ I've never had fans before.) think of this. Questions are also good; I am intentionally keeping some things vague at this point, but I also need to know what needs clarifying. Whether or not I actually do clarify depends on the topic in question. Still, I want to hear (well, read) all your questions. And comments. Flames are acceptable, they (sometimes) still give me the info I need to improve.

I think I've rambled on enough; on with the story!

* * *

"_If you're really offering… Come on then." Harry turned on his heel and continued on his way, not giving Snape a chance to answer. He couldn't keep a smirk from his face as he heard the footsteps resume._

_

* * *

_Upon reaching the Black library, Harry waited for Snape to enter, then promptly closed the door, hoping to make it clear that he wanted no disruptions. When he turned back to Snape, he found himself on the receiving end of one of his patented death glares. In a completely out of character move, Harry simply raised an eyebrow at him then went to take a seat on the couch that sat in front of a gothic fireplace. He spoke again when he noticed Snape hadn't moved.

"I was rather under the impression that you were going to help me in some way. If so, that would involve me explaining recently passed events to you, which will probably take a while." Harry pointed out. After a moment of being glared at some more, he spoke again. "That was a roundabout way to invite you to take a seat." Silence. Harry could swear that Snape was trying to bore holes in his head. "Suit yourself."

* * *

Meanwhile, there was veritable chaos in the kitchen below. Remus, however, was simply sitting there, thinking. He wondered if his cub would actually take his advice and talk to Severus. He sighed, though it was lost in the sound of the chatter the other occupants of the room were taking part in. More than he hoped that Harry would talk to Severus was the hope that Severus would allow Harry to speak with him. Remus knew that somewhere inside his heart, Severus actually gave a damn about the younger raven, even as he vehemently denied it.

Deep in his thoughts, Remus missed the calculating look Sirius was giving him.

* * *

When Severus looked back at Potter, he was startled to see the sombre expression he wore. He sat hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees.

"It started with a dream." Potter began slowly, as if testing each word on his tongue before speaking it. "I don't think I can describe it. I'm not even sure I should try. It strikes me as… wrong." A rather sardonic, dry look crossed his face briefly. "Though I suppose I should tell you _something_. Elsewise* this would be pointless, no?" His words slowed again. "I was… visited… by a woman. She introduced herself as Fate." Severus fought to keep his surprise and scepticism from his face, even as he bit back a wry retort and half a dozen questions. He daren't bring Potter out of the nearly trance-like state he appeared to have entered.

"We spoke for… a while, I suppose. Though I couldn't feel time passing. She bid me goodbye, and when I woke up, my scar was gone to be replaced by another mark across my upper back." Severus's gaze snapped back from where it had been on the fireplace to meet Potter's own.

"What?" When he replied, Potter's voice was oddly gentle, and a small, strange smile danced upon his lips.

"Exactly what I said, sir." Severus blinked. Twice. Was the brat actually showing genuine respect for authority? Mentally shaking himself, he brought himself back to the topic at hand. He crossed the short distance between where he had been standing and the couch where the child sat, before reaching forward and brushing Potter's hair away from his forehead. At this action, the boy showed absolutely no surprise nor protest. He simply sat there calmly, that infuriatingly enigmatic smile that was so out of place on his usually so expressive — and now quite scarless* — face.

"What about this mark you mentioned? Can I see it?" Severus snapped the question out.

"Quite honestly sir, I don't know." The child was still maddeningly calm. _No_, calm wasn't the word. _Neutral. As if nothing can shake him._

"What do you mean?"

"'_Only those whose paths are most intertwined with yours shall see it.'_ That is what she told me." Suddenly, some of Potter's innate fire seemed to come back to him. "And I would really rather not bare myself to you in any way." After a moment he added, "Any more than I have already." There was a long moment of silence.

"Very well."

* * *

Harry mentally amended that last statement as he began to relay his visianic* dreams to the dour man, who had finally taken up Harry's offer to have a seat. _Not any more than I already have. Any more than is necessary._ It became clear to him that he was going to be baring a lot of himself to the man before him, as much as he might have liked to avoid it. After a fair amount of time, Snape told Harry that he would do some research and contact him when the man had constructed a theory of sorts. Though a bit upset with the obvious dismissal, Harry _did_ take his leave of the room with a promise to himself that he would soon return to do some research of his own, and another from Snape that he wouldn't tell anyone else about their conversation. With the latter, an unusual tingle of magic flitted through the both of them leaving the younger a bit puzzled and the older vaguely alarmed if curious.

* * *

Meanwhile, not so far away, a gathering was being held; a meeting of many darkly clothed figures with hoods covering their seemingly skull-like faces. Aforementioned figures were congregated in a semi-circle around another figure, this one without a hood and the apparent leader of the group. A large snake was slithering around the perimeter of the area, before coming to rest at the unhooded* one's feet. At his command, another figure slouched forward. This figure, too, was different than the others, but still clearly deferent to the leader. He was crooked, as if he spent much time hunched over in his life. His hands, if they could be called that, were quite hairy and more claw-like than anything else. He also lacked the skeletal visage the others sported — masks, upon closer inspection —, instead wearing his own face. It was rather disfigured, vaguely canine, and also covered with hair. His eyes were a harsh tawn*, and his ears slightly pointed. When he spoke, his voice was an abrasive growl. However, the leader raised a hand to silence him before he finished even a word. The leader began to outline a plan to his followers, an attack to take place months after this meeting.

Behind one of those masks, grey eyes flashed.

* * *

**AcadianProud:** I actually hadn't intended for the curse scar disappearing to be surprising or not. When Fate kissed Harry on the forehead, she effectively destroyed all connection to Voldie-dearest, hence the cycling of extreme temperatures. His magic was both burning it out and freezing it, the warmth was his magic attempting to make up for the extreme changes it was going through – healing it, kind of. Usually this would be the part where I ask if that explains it, but I am pretty sure it does. **Edit: ** Originally, I was going to have Sev hypothesizing about all that, either inwardly or aloud to Harry, but I couldn't make it work. …Well, I could have, but not in a way that satisfied my writer sensibilities.

Asterisked words are not technically real words, just a quick FYI. I couldn't find words that worked for me, so I used these instead.

-Elsewise – otherwise

-Scarless – self-explanatory

-Visianic – vision-like

-Unhooded – also self-explanatory

-Tawn – my own noun version of tawny, since the dictionary version is tawniness, and that didn't work for me.

While we're on the subject, I also occasionally use words out of context with their dictionary definition. There are no examples in this chapter, but I'll mark those as well if they come up.


End file.
